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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27581105">Two</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanfictional_lullaby/pseuds/Fanfictional_lullaby'>Fanfictional_lullaby</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>GOT7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Breaking Up &amp; Making Up, F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:07:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,258</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27581105</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanfictional_lullaby/pseuds/Fanfictional_lullaby</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes two is enough</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jackson Wang/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When you live together long enough, you'll find there's two of everything. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Two toothbrushes, two coffee mugs, two bathrobes, two pillows and as minimalistic as you lived, there were two breakfast plates. Two pots and two pans. To pairs of chopsticks. A strange arrangement of twos. The reason was simple, really. With too many dishes you became reluctant to wash up. So Jackson came up with a solution that suited both of you. He wasn't around that much to begin with, so two of everything made sense. Yet right now? Two was too much.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even now that you sat at the table, watching the birds fly by with your one mug, ate breakfast off the one plate, holding your one pair of chopsticks. As if nature decided to taunt you, even the birds came in pairs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The last words you uttered to him, ending with divorce. What a horrendous word. Divorce, separation. Like bad math, minus one. Now there was one too many of everything. Never had you noticed how lonely one truly was. Even when alone, you'd set the table. Because eventually, you knew your plus one always came home.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Was the house still home with just one? Or was the house just a house now? You poked at your food. It didn't taste the same. Fruit didn't taste as sweet, rice more like dirt and milk had soured. How long had it been now?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Two days. No, two weeks. Your eyes flicked towards the calendar, two months. You did not keep up with time. Or perhaps time didn't keep up with you. The world seemed slower without him. No, you were sure, the world was indeed slower without him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You didn't even let him finish as he tried to explain. You just wanted to be alone. To be one again, because he decided a third was necessary. Catching him as a girl had pressed herself against him. Her lips on his as if they had become one. You had become the third.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Who knew, one plus one wasn't good enough.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A divorce more final than you planned. Not that you had planned for a third or divorce for that matter. Even when you were happy. When there were thirds, you brought them elsewhere. Going out was for thirds. Your home was meant for two. Just the two of you.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had dubbed it a mistake but the words garbled together in a large ball of nonsense. His voice had faded into nothingness as you prepared to become minus one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let's get a divorce.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That's not really what you wanted. That's not what he wanted. But you couldn't help but feel like the third. You didn’t want to forever feel like...the third.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don't want to see your face again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So he stepped out of the door and never returned. You had become one. But everything at home was still two.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The doorbell rang and you couldn't for the life of you remember if you had an appointment or not. You'd obviously neglected to write down anything on your calendar.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The chair slid across the floor with a creak. You lifted yourself up for the first time in what felt like years. Your knees adjusting to the new old move. You dragged your feet across the hardwood floor as you walked. For some reason, your body had become minus one too. Ready to fall apart at the seams. Your fingers slid across the bolts, undoing them one by one. Your visitor had already fallen silent as they either waited or decided it hadn't been worth it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You opened the door just enough for you to see who it was. The wind brushing against your face for the first time in a long time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jackson,” you stared at your still husband. Your plus one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jagiya,” his deep voice lifted the fog that hung over your heart. Never realising it had been there. Your eyes focused on his hands. Papers. Two pairs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I come in?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You let him inside as you sat across from each other at the table. Once again there were two. Like Yin and Yang. You were complete.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He furled the corners of the papers in his hand nervously. One of the pairs already signed by him. He lay the papers down, your eyes drew to the slightly blurred ink.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tears. Two tears.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jagiya, please let me explain,” he said as neither of you moved. “I don't even know that girl. She just did it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes were red. His body was less. Less him. He lost weight. His Auburn hair, too messy. If both of you were minus. Could you become plus again together?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You watched him attentively. Noticing his one earring. Whereas usually, he wore two. His shirt and his tank top were mismatched in colour. A stylish guy like him wasn’t one to do so. His hands lay on the table, one atop the other. His wedding band, still prominent. You still wore yours faithfully because as long as you were married you continued being two.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Baby girl,” he murmured, “I miss you.” You considered him for a moment. You should’ve given him a chance sooner. But the idea of being one. You’d lived it long enough now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I miss you too,” you replied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stood up, lowering himself to one knee to take your hand in his. “Please don't ask that from me again. Don't ask me to stay away from you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You spread your arms and he accepted the gesture, wrapping his arms around your waist. Two tears sliding down your face. Would your house become your home again?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'm sorry you had to see that. I can't always control what fans do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” you murmured, “I just thought you didn't want me anymore.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pushed you away gently to look into your eyes, “jagiya, you can't be serious. I love you, don't I?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You cocked your head to the side as if the concept had been a strange one all along. “You’re looking at me like you didn’t know that,” he said, raising his eyebrows. He looked taken aback.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Your lips curling into a cheeky grin. “I forgot,” you shrugged innocently. Two hands dug into your sides making you squirm until you rolled out of your chair in giggles. Two strong arms catching you as you did. The breath knocked out of him as he landed on the floor with you on top.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Two smiles and for the first time in a long time, two laughs. Melting together in perfect unhinged harmony. Then silence. All that was heard was the slow breathing of you and your plus one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve lost weight,” you murmured, nuzzling his cheek.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He rolled you over to gaze into your eyes, “food just doesn’t taste the same.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You shut your eyes, enjoying the pressure of his body. A hint of mint before you felt his lips on yours. A short kiss before he pulled away again, awaiting your reaction. Your eyes shot open, “you’re just going to stop?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He chuckled, pressing another short kiss to your cheek instead, “yeah.” A sudden growl between the two of you interrupting whatever the mood had been. “I’m hungry,” he muttered, dropping himself on top of you. You groaned as he squished you in the process. Although you’d be a liar if you said you weren’t.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on then,” you laughed, attempting to push him off. Perhaps a third would’ve been good to haul your husband off of you. “I still have two packs of noodles left.”</span>
</p>
<p>
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  <br/>
</p>
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